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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26668507">a way out of here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflysky/pseuds/butterflysky'>butterflysky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jason works for Black Mask AU, M/M, Mentions of drugs, set in the movie-verse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:28:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26668507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflysky/pseuds/butterflysky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy's been on Black Mask's trail for a while, and it leads him to the Black Mask Club. There he meets Jason, who's desperate for a way out of the life he's trapped in. </p><p>For better or worse, they agree to work together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roy Harper/Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay so this is an au based on the birds of prey movie but where like...roy and jason exist</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Black Mask Club is not the kind of place Roy wants to spend his time, but this is his case, and he’s been working on it for months, and he’s going in whether Dick or Batman like it or not. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dick’s apprehensions had been twofold: heading into a booze soaked club, and working in Gotham at all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy had assured him he’d be fine, that he was in a much better place than he’d ever been, that the Batman could help or get the hell out of his way for all he cared. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dick and Bruce still weren’t on speaking terms, otherwise Roy knew Dick would be urging him to work <em>with </em>Bruce. Hell, Dick would probably come along himself. There was no way Bruce didn’t already have tons of intel on Roman Sionis that Roy could make use of. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Roy could <em>definitely </em>understand Dick’s reluctance to have anything to do with Bruce, so he let the matter lie. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That means he’s seated at the shiny black bar of the club, music pounding in his ears, trying to stay focused on the plan while people dance wildly behind him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s noticed a handful of enforcers around the place - a man he knows to be Victor Zsasz lurks in one corner, and another man he doesn’t recognise stands by a door that must lead to private offices. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s what he’s here to find out, Roy thinks, and takes a sip of his non-alcoholic cocktail. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wouldn’t be on the case at all if it wasn’t for Black Mask’s operations crossing over into the new city he calls home. Roy wasn’t exactly keen to head into Gotham any more than Dick was. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But here he is, surreptitiously keeping an eye on the enforcers and hoping the owner himself makes an appearance sometime before closing time, because he honestly just wants to go home.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s fairly certain Harley Quinn is one of those wild dancers behind him, and that’s not an interaction he really wants to deal with - especially not when he catches her throwing up into some poor woman’s handbag. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy turns his attention back to the bar, keeping an eye on the bartender, who’s silently serving drinks and accepting tips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From what Roy knows of Black Mask’s operations, anyone working at this club could be involved with his steadily growing empire, built on the back of arms dealing and, recently, drugs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy has a deep, deep hatred for the drug trade. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He keeps on sipping his drink and discreetly watching the staff members loitering around the club. They’re dressed all in black, apart from Zsasz who’s wearing a monstrosity of a shirt, and Roy recognizes some of them from their mugshots. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the man guarding the door - Roy doesn’t recognize him. He’s handsome, Roy notes idly, with dark hair and a striking jawline. The top two buttons of his black shirt are popped, and he looks like he’s wearing jeans - <em>form </em>fitting ones. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy pushes the thoughts away. Not the time or the place. It’s been a while, sure, but eyeing up Black Mask’s goons is bad even for him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except, the man is looking back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy looks back down into his drink and knocks it back in one smooth motion. Time to move. There’s a woman at the back of the club, singing beautifully, and Roy heads over as if to watch her. Really, he’s going to watch the set of doors behind her.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hand grabs him by the elbow and Roy turns, surprised. It’s the handsome door guard, glaring fiercely at him. The colorful lights make his eyes a stupidly bright shade of blue. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m cutting you off,” the man says lowly, and Roy frowns at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? I’m not—”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man hauls him away by the grip on his elbow, and Roy stumbles after him, only just keeping his feet under him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dude, hey—” he tries, but the man pulls him so sharply he stumbles right through the double doors and out into the alleyway beyond. The singer doesn’t falter, hitting a high note loud enough to crack glass. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the hell,” Roy cries, when he hits the brick wall opposite. He’s wearing enough body armor under his clothes that it doesn’t hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The doors close behind the man, cutting off the thumping beat, and then Roy stiffens and prepares himself for a fight because the man is still glaring ferociously at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not as good as you think you are,” the man hisses, and Roy puts on his best confused face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No idea what you’re talking about, dude.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man scoffs. “Yeah? So you weren’t sizing up security all night?” He sweeps his eyes up and down Roy’s body, and Roy’s cheeks warm. “And then there’s this.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man gets closer, and Roy tries to back up, but he’s already against the wall. So he stays completely still as the man leans in close, close enough his breath is hot on Roy’s neck, his cheek, and taps the skin just below Roy’s ear with his fingertips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Earpiece,” he whispers into Roy’s ear, and Roy spins off from the wall and away from the man. Dammit, he only had the earpiece as emergency back up - just in case he had to call Dick. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Walk away,” is all Roy says, furious that his careful plans have been ruined. He can’t come back to the club in his civvies now that he’s been made, and he’s nowhere near ready to burst in as Arsenal. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nah,” the man says, watching him with a dark, amused expression. “You’re going to tell me what you’re doing here, and then I’ll decide who else needs to know about you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Okay, that’s interesting. Not attempting to drag him straight to the boss is something he might be able to work with. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wasn’t doing anything,” Roy mutters, straightening out his clothes. “I’m between jobs, and I came to check out the club, alright? I’ve got experience as a bouncer.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Those blue eyes rake him up and down again. “Right. And the earpiece?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy shrugs. “Bluetooth.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh huh.” The man looks more amused than pissed now, though, and that’s another good sign. Then he sighs, some of the tension leaving his body. “Just get out of here, and don’t let me catch you again. You don’t want to know what’ll happen if you come back.” His gaze is dark, a warning. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And <em>that’s </em>interesting too. “What’ll happen?” Roy asks, and it comes out breathless. Dammit, flirting with the enemy is not a good idea. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man smirks at him, but it falters and vanishes. “I told you, you don’t want to know.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy keeps watching him, then says, “When do you finish your shift?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That blue gaze sharpens. “Why?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I want to buy you a drink,” Roy says, with a smile he hopes is charming. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man rolls his eyes, and now he almost looks uncomfortable. Roy thinks he’s going to have to adjust strategies when the man says, “I could take a break.” He gives him a long look, then says, “Stay here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He disappears back inside, and Roy tries to re-center himself. This guy might be amenable to letting something slip, maybe, but nothing else. And he will <em>not </em>flirt with this dude, no way. No matter how many of those dark, intense looks he gives him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the man comes back out, he’s wearing a coat over his black silky shirt, with a charcoal scarf looped round his neck. It makes him look softer. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s your name, anyway?” Roy asks, as they head away from the club. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason,” he says shortly. “You?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Rick.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason snorts, like he can tell it’s a fake name, but says nothing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They end up in a dingy little bar, and Jason leads them to a table at the back. When Roy asks what he wants, he asks for water. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy gets himself an orange juice and Jason his water, then settles down opposite him, just watching him as he takes a sip. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Jason asks, looking back up at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing,” Roy says. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not gonna tell me you got lost in my eyes?” Jason asks with a raised eyebrow, and Roy laughs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I could if you want me to,” he says, then remembers he’s not supposed to be flirting. He clears his throat. “So anyway, what are you doing at the club? You a bouncer?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason looks like he doesn’t want to answer, like he sees right through Roy, but he speaks anyway. “Something like that.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s it? What are you, Mr Tall, Dark and Mysterious?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason laughs quietly into his drink. “Sure. Something like that.” Then the amusement vanishes from his face, and he says, “Don’t talk about the club.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s something there, Roy can tell. “You…don’t like it there?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason laughs, but it’s cold. “Yeah. I love it. Every little boy dreams of growing up to work for—” he cuts himself off and glares at Roy. “I know what you’re doing, asshole. I didn’t come with you to be used like <em>that</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy gapes at him. “Wait, what? How did you <em>want</em> to be used?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason very deliberately lowers his eyes to Roy’s mouth and back up to his eyes, then raises an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy blushes. “Jason…”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to be your little informant, okay? But if you want to head out back…” He gives Roy an expectant look. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can help you,” Roy says, and Jason laughs again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Help me get off, I hope.” He stands, water finished. “Come on, loverboy.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Roy, god help him, goes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Out back, Jason slides his hands up Roy’s shirt, wrinkling it, and whispers, “You’re hot,” against his lips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Speak for yourself,” Roy manages, and puts his hands in Jason’s hair so he can pull him into a kiss. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s tongue slides into his mouth immediately, sinfully hot, and Roy groans, tightens his hands in Jason’s hair and clings. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One of Jason’s thighs - <em>strong, muscled </em>thighs - slides between Roy’s legs, and Roy gasps, then lets his head thump back against the wall behind him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” Jason asks, and <em>moves, </em>and Roy’s eyes slide shut. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” he says, breathless, pulling Jason closer for more of that friction. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Jason tilts his head and kisses him deeper, harder, and Roy’s hot all over and it’s not <em>enough. </em>He hauls Jason in closer, positions his own leg just so, sets up a rhythm that has them both gasping. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, <em>Rick,</em>” Jason says, and it makes Roy freeze for just a second, before Jason trembles against him and <em>whimpers. </em>Roy reaches for his zipper just as Jason reaches for his. Their hands bump together, and Jason laughs into his mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I…” Jason says, and Roy gasps, “<em>Yes</em>,” before he’s thought about it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason drops to his knees, and Roy keens something that sounds like <em>fuuuuuck </em>when Jason takes him into his mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks down long enough to see Jason jerking himself off, and fuck that’s hot, and the stroke of Jason’s tongue against him is hot, and his face is flaming hot, and it’s all so much and he—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/>
“I’m gonna—” he warns, and Jason pulls off and jerks himself faster, harder, spilling all over his hand with a low moan right as he twists a hand on Roy’s length that has him gasping and coming into that tight grip. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck,” Roy gasps. He helps Jason up, and Jason kisses him immediately, slower this time, softer and languid. Roy moans softly, threads his fingers into Jason’s hair, holds him close for a second and tries not to think about how badly he’s fucked up already. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ask me back to your place,” Jason mutters against his lips, hands roaming, rucking up Roy’s shirt and stroking over his abs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I…” Lian’s at home - tucked up safe and sound in the heavily alarmed apartment, with the system linked up to both his and Dick’s phone, and Roy’s neighbour on babysitting duty. “Not tonight.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason stiffens and pulls away. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just…not a great time.” Roy’s too cold, now that Jason’s heat has gone. And Jason looks so <em>disappointed, </em>and then that shifts into something that looks horribly like self-loathing, and Roy feels like the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth. How does he fix this?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right.” Jason looks away, then looks back at him. “I need to go back. They’ll notice I’m gone.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>can</em> help you,” Roy blurts, and Jason looks startled. “We both know why I was really there, don’t we? I’ll help you, if you’ll help me. I can get you out.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason purses his lips, then sighs, puts his head in his hands. Speaking into his fingers, he says, “You a cop or a hero?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy hesitates. “Neither.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason looks up at him suspiciously. “So, what? You’re just some guy?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Something like that.” He’s not a hero again, not yet. He could be, though, if he pulls this off. “Just let me help you, Jason.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason keeps on looking at him, then sighs heavily. “Give me your number. And your real damn name.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy hands over his number, hardly believing his luck. He hesitates only a moment over his name, but he’s always aware of the danger of someone recognizing him as Oliver Queen’s former-son, so he admits, “Roy. I’ll be in touch, yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason laughs once, and it’s tinged with hysteria. “Yeah. Hope this doesn’t end up with me dead.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy jumps, startled. “Jason—”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Nah, I’m careful.” He looks Roy up and down <em>again. </em>“Looking forward to your call, <em>Roy</em>.” His lips curl up in a smirk, and Roy feels heat unfurl in his stomach.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Roy walks back to where he left his car, hoping the cold will clear his head. This is either an excellent idea, or a terrible one.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">But either way, he supposes he'll be seeing Jason again. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason wakes up in a state he’s used to: intensely regretful. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fuck, what had he been thinking, taking Roy’s number? Going off with him? Someone could’ve seen. <em>Roman </em>could’ve seen. And when Roy inevitably gets caught sneaking around the club? That’s both of them dead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But damn had he been beautiful. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d made some delicious sounds, too, when Jason had got on his knees. The memory brings heat to his cheeks. Yeah, <em>that </em>part of the night he doesn’t regret. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason stretches, yawns, checks the time on his phone. He’ll be late if he stays in bed any longer. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s another cloudy, miserable day outside, and Jason takes his time on the walk to the club. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dinah Lance is leaning up against the door when he gets there. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” he says. “You’re early.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not anymore,” she says, and for some reason looks at him resentfully. “I’m the boss’ new driver.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck,” Jason says, before he’s had a chance to think better of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Yeah,</em>” Dinah sighs, then looks past him, over his shoulder. “I didn’t have much choice about this.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know how it works,” Jason mutters, and brushes past her to go inside. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He <em>does </em>know. He’d never wanted to work as a damn lackey for the Black Mask, but he hadn’t been given a whole lot of choice either - all he’d had to do was keep lookout for one night, but the job had gone <em>wrong, </em>to say the least. And Jason, stupidly, had thought on his feet and saved the shipment - and that had kept him locked in Roman’s employ ever since. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason realizes, as he steps into the club proper, that Dinah had probably seen him manhandle Roy away yesterday. He stops and looks back at the closed door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>She wouldn’t think anything of it, </em>he tells himself, but the paranoia doesn’t quite dissipate. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even if she <em>did </em>think something of it, Dinah’s not the kind of person to tell tales. Jason doesn’t know her all that well, but he knows that much. She keeps herself to herself - or at least she did until whatever made her Roman’s new driver.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason heads past the bar into the offices. Empty. He relaxes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s number is burning a hole in his pocket. Jason’s got plenty of stories he could tell, sure, but not much in the way of proof to offer up. And then there’s the small matter of certain, gruesome death if Roman finds out, which he’s doing his best to ignore. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s still not even all that sure what Roy’s trying to do. But it’s an excuse to call him later, at least, Jason muses as he heads upstairs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s the last place he wants to be, but Roman is expecting him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he opens the door, Zsasz is lounging at the dining table. They trade glares as Jason walks past him, then Zsasz smirks, and Jason’s skin crawls. He’d be happy if he never had to see the man again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Maybe, </em>he tells himself, and thinks of Roy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not-a-cop-not-a-hero Roy. Bullshit, Jason thinks, but he supposes Roy can keep some secrets. God knows Jason keeps enough. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason,” Roman says, with an expansive wave of his drink. “Come in, come in.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason tries to smile at him without grimacing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me about last night, my boy,” Roman says, and throws an arm around his neck and drags him in close. Roman, for some fucking reason, treats Jason like he’s an errant son. It infuriates him, but he grits his teeth and keeps quiet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing interesting,” Jason manages, as Roman leads him back over to the table, where Zsasz keeps on glaring at him. “Except whatever happened with Dinah?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s fishing, and Roman indulges him with a loud laugh. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, yes. She can kick <em>ever</em> so high.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the hell happened?” Jason asks, and Roman snorts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harley Quinn got herself into some trouble, and Dinah got her out,” he says, gesturing for Jason to sit. Jason does, reluctantly. He doesn’t like to spend too much time up here. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So,” Roman says grandly, ushering that entire conversational topic aside. “I’ve got something <em>very </em>exciting in the works.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zsasz looks over at Jason and pins him with a smirk that Jason doesn’t like at <em>all. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s a very important shipment coming into Gotham for us, and you two are going to unload it,” Roman informs them, and Jason tenses. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is it?” he asks warily, but Roman <em>tsks. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know better than to ask that, Jason.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks down, so he can’t see Zsasz’s smirk grow even further.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What you <em>do </em>need to know is it’ll be at the docks <em>very </em>soon,” Roman continues, the hard edge to his voice dropping away. “You’ll both be getting it for me, so play nice, yes?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zsasz leers at Jason, and Jason looks away, jaw tightening.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roman watches them both closely, but stands abruptly, dismissing them with a wave. Jason jumps to his feet, while Zsasz lingers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh and Jason,” Roman calls after him, and he pauses, dread lurching cold through his stomach. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” he manages. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My dry cleaning needs collecting,” is all Roman says, and Jason tries not to visibly relax.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure,” he mutters, and makes himself scarce. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a reason to get out of the club, even if it is kind of insulting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dinah is still outside. Jason hesitates, then heads over. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” he says, and she looks up at him, nods once. “You, uh, saved Harley Quinn, I hear.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dinah grimaces. “Some creeps tried to drive off with her.” She looks at him sideways, quickly, then straightens up off the wall and says, “I did something good, and look where it got me.” She’s walking away before Jason can answer. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It bothers him, suddenly, to think that her opinion of him might be as low as it is of Roman, of Zsasz. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pushes the thoughts aside and walks in the direction of the dry cleaners. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason gets himself a coffee on the way, toys with his phone, thinks about calling Roy. Now’d be a good time, right? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can admit to himself that his intentions aren’t entirely pure in hitting call. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, hello?” Roy says, and his voice is kind of raspy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you just wake up?” Jason asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s the sound of something crashing on the other end of the line, then a groan. “Uh, yes. I worked late last night.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, so that’s what we’re calling it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? Wait, no, that’s not what I meant-”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason laughs quietly, cutting him off. “Kidding, Roy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s silence for a few moments, as Jason blows across the top of his coffee and slouches against a wall. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you…okay?” Roy says eventually. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Jason says. “Just thought I’d touch base. You weren’t heavy on the details last night.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, right. That’s an in-person conversation, I think.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re finally going to invite me back to your place?” Jason asks, and his heart’s not really in it but he gets a sharp intake of breath, at least. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, maybe neutral ground first? It’s just—” He goes quiet suddenly, the sound from the other end muffled like he’s covered his phone with his hand. Jason can hear his voice, just, but can’t make out what he’s saying. “Sorry, back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Neutral ground,” Jason echoes, and tries not to take it personally. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. I’ll text you an address?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure,” Jason says, and hangs up before Roy can say anything else. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dinah walking away. Roy not wanting him in his home. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shoves off the wall and does his best not to think the rest of the walk to the dry cleaners. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason delivers Roman’s suit unscathed — he and Zsasz have vanished somewhere, which is fine by him — and vanishes for a smoke. There’s no sign of Dinah. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That night the club is as busy as ever, but conspicuously missing a red head. Dinah isn’t singing, either, which Jason doesn’t like. He feels weirdly alone, in the press of bodies all around him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he makes it back to his shitty apartment - tiny, round the corner from the club and paid for by Roman - he throws himself back onto his bed and looks at his phone. No texts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Figures, he thinks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s not tired, all keyed up from the club and the knowledge that he’s collecting a shipment with Zsasz <em>very soon</em>. He can guess what’s inside, what kind of garbage that’s getting shipped out to the city’s dealers. It makes him sick, and knowing he’s a part of it makes him even sicker. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He <em>has </em>to get out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s fingers hesitate over Roy’s name on his phone, then he flings it aside and groans. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He should go out, get drunk, find someone who actually wants to take him home. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Unlikely, </em>he thinks resentfully, and pulls the covers over his head, still fully dressed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason wakes to a text from Roy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Shit dude, sorry I forgot to text yesterday. There’s a good diner near across town from the club. Sound good? </em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason drags a hand over his face and squints at the time. It’s early — way too early to go to the club. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Okay. </em>He replies, and his phone buzzes with an address a second later. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s still bitingly cold outside. He shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his head down on the walk to the bus station, then leans his head against the window and watches the city pass him by as the bus crosses town. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can’t stop thinking about the shipment. About what he’s doing, what he’s enabling. About how much he wants to get <em>away, </em>and how much he can’t. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s in over his head. So is Roy, probably. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he arrives at the diner, Roy is already there, in the back corner. Jason spots his red hair from the door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason,” Roy says, like he’s startled, when Jason sits opposite. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Roy,” Jason returns, and gives him a not-so-subtle once over. He’s even better looking in daylight. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy looks like he flushes a bit. “You okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Jason says simply. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They order coffee, and Jason thinks <em>what the hell </em>and gets himself some waffles too. Roy watches him as he orders, tracks the way he snaps the menu closed and slots it back in its metal holder. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason looks at him expectantly, and Roy clears his throat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve been on…your employer’s trail for a while. Tracking arms deals, his shadier business ventures, things like that. Obviously, it’s brought me to Gotham.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Obviously,” Jason mutters, and sips his coffee. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And the club,” Roy says. “Which I’m assuming is the hub of all this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason nods once. “He lives above it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s eyebrows go up, but he doesn’t comment on that. “Now, I’m going to <em>assume </em>that your hands aren’t…entirely clean.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No shit,” Jason snaps, then slumps back against the leather booth and sighs. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey man, no offence meant,” Roy says, holding a hand up. “No judgment here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason scoffs and folds his arms, but lets it lie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I know your employer has been branching out,” Roy says, after a pause.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The drug trade,” Jason says tightly. “He’s eyeing up control of Gotham’s.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy sighs heavily, like he expected so but didn’t want to hear it anyway. “What I need is proof that Janus Industries and the Black Mask’s activities are linked.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason looks up at him, surprised. “That’s it? You’re not going to…do anything?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy leans forward. “If you know a way I can get that information, there’s a <em>lot </em>of things I can do. But I need the intel first.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason eyes him skeptically. “I could…I’ll see what I can do.” Then he thinks of the shipment, and his heart freezes. “Wait,” he says, fast, and Roy actually jumps. “There’s…I can tell you where he keeps some of his deliveries. Can you do something?” He sounds desperate, he knows. He <em>is </em>desperate, though. Maybe if the warehouse gets hit, the shipment will be delayed. Maybe it'll be cancelled entirely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Deliveries?” Roy repeats, then frowns, thoughtful. “Where? I’ll see what I can do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t just…bust it up?” Jason tries, and Roy shakes his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid. I need proof if I want to stop him for good.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Jason says. <em>It’d be easier to just kill him, </em>he thinks, but he can already tell Roy won’t want to hear that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s thought about it before. A lot. Almost constantly. That’s the only way out that he can see, but it’s a way out that’ll end with him turned to Swiss cheese by all the other thugs on Black Mask’s payroll - and that’s if Zsasz leaves anything of him intact, anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be there, just give me the details,” Roy assures, so Jason tells him and tries to trust him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A small part of him wonders if Roy is on Black Mask’s payroll too. If this is going to end with Jason at the bottom of Gotham harbor. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doubts it, though. Something about Roy just…doesn’t fit in with the gloom and grime of Black Mask’s world. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, Jay—Jason,” Roy says, and definitely flushes this time. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason grins at him. “No problem, loverboy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That flush goes redder than Roy’s hair, and Jason is delighted by it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, okay,” Roy says, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason goes cold. “What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Saying shit that has me all flustered,” Roy says, and when he smiles at Jason, it looks like his eyes are sparkling. “Save that for when we’re off the clock, yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason smiles back at him, slowly. “Fine by me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>You’re always on the clock, </em>he thinks, unbidden, and his smile shrinks. He coughs to hide it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m at the club later,” he says, standing, tossing a crumpled bill on the table to cover his half of the check. “Can I expect to see you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not tonight,” Roy says, and Jason can’t tell if he imagines that Roy is disappointed by that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shame,” Jason replies, and when Roy raises an eyebrow at him, Jason winks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy stands too, then, ruining Jason’s suave exit, and gestures for him to walk ahead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they get outside, Roy turns to look at him, and Jason looks back, slightly alarmed by the scrutiny. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy keeps on looking at him, bites his lip, then says, “That’s a nice scarf.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason, startled, flits his eyes down to the gray scarf round his neck. “Oh. Thanks. It’s…just from some shitty bargain store somewhere.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s nice,” Roy repeats, then takes a deep breath. “I’ll text you about tonight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure,” Jason says, still a little off balance, and watches him walk away. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>let me know what you think!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lian is fast asleep by the time Roy is ready to leave for the shipment. He kisses her gently on the forehead and puts her teddy back in the crook of her arm from where it’d fallen on the floor. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks for coming round on such short notice,” Roy tells his neighbour, Lisa, who shakes her head with a smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No problem, Roy. Good luck tonight!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s told her he’s a bodyguard for someone high profile, which she accepted without any suspicion - she’s happy to babysit in exchange for his high-speed Wi-Fi and a quiet place to study away from the rest of her family. He’s tried to pay her, but she won’t let him. He plans on sneaking her an envelope before he leaves Gotham anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy changes into his suit quickly in the closet down the hall, then leaves via the roof exit of the building. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gotham is as chaotic as ever, he notes as he heads for the docks over the rooftops. There are people on every street, lights on in almost every building. It’s alive in a way not many places are, a strange kind of aura around the city even without the Bat’s silhouette in the sky. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wherever Batman is, it isn’t anywhere near the docks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he arrives, the place is deserted. He checks carefully for any heat signatures, scanning the rows of warehouses and shipping crates stacked outside them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy gets set up, crouched and careful on the edge of a roof, eyes on the rows and rows of shipping crates. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason had been nervous, shifty, but Roy still trusts his intel. There’d been a frenzied truth in his eyes when he’d blurted it out, a desperation for someone to do something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That someone would have to be Roy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he drops down behind the warehouse Jason had given him, he does another sweep for cameras, guards, anything. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There, in the back corner of the warehouse — two guards, both armed. Roy zips up to the rafters as soon as he gets the backdoor open, creeping silently towards the shadowy figures. When he’s close enough, a tranq each knocks them clean out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alright, time to get going. He goes to the first crate, the one the men had obviously been the most focused on, and sets about prying it open. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the wooden lid cracks off, he looks down and sees…</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Guns, lots of them. What he'd expected, but there’s still nothing to link the warehouse to Janus Industries - <em>but </em>he knows for sure what he’s up against, now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He picks up a few of the heavier guns, examines them (serial numbers filed off, predictably), and then something else catches his eye. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy sets the guns down carefully on the ground, keeps going until he’s exposed what was hidden underneath them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">White powder. Bags and bags of it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fuck. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy sees red. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So much of this <em>garbage, </em>ready to be sent out to who knew how many people, ready to ruin who knew how many lives? And Roy…Roy’s standing right here, right in front of it, and he has to let it go because he needs to gather intel and if this warehouse goes up in flames then he has nothing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But <em>fuck </em>does he want to blow this place sky high. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then it occurs to him. He could. He really <em>could. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Word is Black Mask has a hell of a temper. And angry people are prone to slipping up, making mistakes. Getting sloppy while they seek vengeance. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy could destroy this place, back Black Mask into a corner, enrage him so much he does something stupid and makes it easier to finally catch the bastard. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It could go the other way, though. It could set Black Mask on the warpath and make his job even harder in the process. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Roy doesn’t want to think about that. And, anyway, he has Jason. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason, who’d wanted him to do something. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alright. He’s doing this. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Carefully, he gets the guards outside and a safe distance away, behind a few obstacles for good measure, then cuffs them and leaves them for the GCPD. They’ll be here any minute, he guesses. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy sets the charges, then makes a run for it. He’s clear of the docks by the time the <em>BOOM </em>makes him stumble. When he looks back, the fire is blazing against the dark sky, and he grins wide and wild in the night. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he gets back to his apartment, Lisa is watching the news, wide eyed. The warehouse is steadily burning on the screen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Roy,” she gasps. “Did you see this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” he says, weary, like this is just another day in Gotham. “Can never catch a break, can we?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can say that again,” she says, then shakes her head and gathers up her things. “Lian was a dream, as always.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy smiles. Of course she was. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Lisa has left, Roy shuts and triple locks the door, sets the security, yawns and stretches. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He checks in on Lian, who’s drooling onto her pillow, then gets ready for bed. He wonders if Jason has seen the news yet, and if he has, what he thinks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy gets his answer when the phone rings, <em>J</em> displaying on the screen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason?” he answers hesitantly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a long pause, then, quiet, breathless, Jason says, “Was this you?” He’s practically whispering. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy hesitates again, then says, “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s breath stutters. “Thank you,” he breathes. “<em>Thank you.</em>” </span>
  <span class="s1">Before Roy can answer, Jason says, “I have to go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See you tomorrow?” Roy blurts impulsively, and Jason chokes out a laugh. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. Yeah. See you tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The line goes dead, and Roy feels warm all over. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They meet at the diner again, while Lian’s at her nursery school. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We should go somewhere else next time,” Jason says, still with that dark, intense gaze, that slight sardonic curl to his mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Roy says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s eyes flick up to him. “You want to know what happened.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy considers him. He looks tired, dark shadows under his eyes. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s look of surprise is soft, startlingly open. “I’m. I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy keeps on considering him. “Good.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s cheeks go red. “Roman was <em>pissed,</em>” he says, and Roy lets him change the subject. “He was on the phone all night, holed up with Zsasz. There’s a…a shipment coming in soon. They’re changing the timeline around, trying to find somewhere new to store it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Understandable,” Roy says, and grins despite himself. Jason, hesitantly, returns it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then the smile wilts. “Hey…Roy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The singer at the club, Dinah. Roman just made her his driver, but she’s not…she’s not involved in any of this. She didn’t choose the new job. So don't...you know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy nods slowly. “I get it. Think she’d talk to me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason chews the end of his straw. “I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“At least I’ve got you,” Roy says absently, and Jason looks startled again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’ll, um, keep an eye out. Tell you whatever I hear about the shipment.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, Jay,” Roy says warmly, genuinely. Jason goes adorably pink. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever,” he mutters, and sips determinedly at his drink. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy smiles fondly at him. And then, abruptly, the memory of Jason on his knees flashes into his head and now <em>he’s </em>the one going red. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Jason looks up again, it’s like he can read Roy’s mind; he smirks a bit, looks smug, hollows his cheek around his straw. <em>That </em>makes Roy roll his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Overdoing it, Jay,” he says, and Jason winks at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Part of Roy wants to ask if he’s doing anything, see if he can take him out somewhere (he can’t get the look on Jason’s face when Roy had said no to taking him home out of his head). But if Jason was wary about going to the same diner twice, there’s no way he’d go anywhere with Roy now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe later, under the cover of darkness. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But <em>Lian. </em>He won’t let anyone around her he hasn’t thoroughly vetted first, and as much as he likes Jason, he barely knows him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe another time. Once this thing with Black Mask is over, even. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy realizes he’s gazing at Jason, probably with a stupid expression on his face, and drops his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Keep me posted,” he says, and sees Jason nod out the corner of his eye. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy puts down enough cash to cover the entire check, and when Jason looks up at him, frowning, Roy says, “My treat. Since we can’t be seen in public anywhere nice.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s eyes go wide. “Oh.” His gaze flickers down, then comes back up. “My place isn’t nice. And it’s got a fire escape. Pretty easy to sneak in with no one seeing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy grins at him, slow and easy. “Good to know.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another few days at the club slip away, and Jason endures Roman’s ranting, endures Zsasz’s little smirks, endures herding drunken club goers out the door when they overdo it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The disaster at the warehouse upset Roman <em>badly. </em>He’s even more volatile than normal, which makes him extra dangerous. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Jason knows what Roy was thinking, and knows he thought right - Roman’s rushing to get things ready for the shipment, and the way he’s raging, the speed he’s working, means he’s bound to make mistakes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason doesn’t dare do anything but stay out of his way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time the club closes each night, he’s exhausted, frazzled, ready to collapse face first on his bed and shut out the world for a while. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then, early one morning, a text from Roy comes through. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Free tonight?</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason bites his lip absently. He’s never really <em>free, </em>but he could be, he thinks. A couple of the guys owe him a favor. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sends some texts, gets things sorted, straightens out a cover story if Roman notices he’s gone. It’s risky, when Roman’s in this mood, but Jason just wants to get <em>away. </em>Roy’s offering that, he thinks, if Jason’s understood right. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe he hasn’t. But Roy had said something about taking him out, and that…that has to count for something. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Yeah, </em>Jason replies eventually. Then, a second later, <em>Your place or mine?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Gonna have to be yours, my heating’s out. </em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s lying, but Jason doesn’t care. He sends his address, with strict instructions to use the fire escape. No one’s watched his place for ages, but he never wants to risk it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And, besides, if anyone sees, he’ll just tell the truth - Roy’s a hookup, and nothing more. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy knocks on his window that evening, and Jason looks at him with an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. Roy's leaning up against the fire escape railing casual as anything, a lazy smirk on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason refuses to blush, and lets him in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Roy says. “You look good.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason looks down at himself. He’s wearing jeans and a worn red sweater, nothing to write home about. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks,” he says belatedly, when Roy just keeps on looking at him. “Um, you too.” It’s Roy’s easy way of smiling, the freckles on his face, the redness of his hair. It doesn’t matter what he’s wearing. He’d look good in anything. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So,” Roy says, walking further inside Jason’s tiny, shitty apartment. “You gonna show me around?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason trails after him. If he’s honest, he’s surprised Roy hasn’t just…got on with things. Is he expecting to be wined and dined, or something?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, kitchen’s through there, bedroom’s back there,” Jason says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow when Roy looks back at him and laughs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Jason says. “Look at this place, it’s a dump.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s expression softens, and he walks closer to Jason, grabs his wrists in a gentle hold. “Nothing special you want to show off?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason hesitates, then his eyes cross to the bookcase up against the wall, and Roy turns to follow his gaze. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Books?” Roy asks, and lets go of him and walks toward the shelves before Jason can speak. “Jesus, you’ve got a mini library in here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason clears his throat, nervous, suddenly. “Um. Yeah. I…read.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy looks back at him and grins. “No kidding.” He looks back, touches the spines with the very tips of his fingers, and for some reason that makes Jason feel all weird in his stomach. “Any favorites?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I like…” he hesitates, then thinks <em>fuck it </em>and says, “Jane Austen.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s eyebrows go up, but his smile doesn’t turn mocking. “Classic. Can’t say I’ve ever read any of her stuff before.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then you’re missing out,” Jason declares, bolder than he really feels. He doesn’t like how strangely vulnerable he’s feeling with Roy in his space, looking at his things. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” Roy says, and Jason flushes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh. Yeah. Yes. Sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy smiles at him again, then steps closer, and since when has Jason been all awkward and fumbling? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You…” Jason starts, then stops, not sure what he was going to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy leans in closer, breathes, “Yeah?” across his lips, and Jason shuts his eyes and lets himself be kissed gentler than he’s ever been in his life. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One of Roy’s hands comes up to cup his cheek, and his face is being cradled, like he’s something delicate, something to be taken care of. It should bother him. It doesn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason, hesitantly, rests his hands on Roy’s hips. Roy hums into his mouth and touches his tongue to Jason’s lips, and Jason lets him in immediately with a gasp.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s fingers stroke through his hair, and Roy pulls away to murmur, “Mmm, Jay,” and Jason <em>shivers.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He feels like he’s losing control, like this is going to end with him shaking and exposed and far more vulnerable than he’s ever wanted to be, so he pushes Roy down to the couch and kneels between his spread legs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“C’mon,” Jason mumbles, and tugs at Roy’s zipper, eyes down, intent on shifting this to something he’s more used to. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s fingers touch his cheek and Jason looks up, surprised. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come up here,” Roy murmurs, expression so <em>soft, </em>and god help him, Jason goes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy pulls him closer, puts their foreheads together, just breathes against him for a moment. His breath is warm on Jason’s lips. Jason trembles. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then Roy brings their mouths back together, slowly, gently, such a soft whisper of a movement Jason can’t help but shudder and grab Roy by the shoulders. His attempts to deepen the kiss are gently rebuffed; Roy leans back, brushes his fingers through Jason’s hair, and smiles at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go slow,” Roy whispers, and Jason doesn’t do <em>slow, </em>but for Roy he thinks he could try. He's already broken so many of his own rules for Roy anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He lets Roy pull him back in, lets him touch their lips together again, lets Roy kiss him slowly and tenderly until he’s practically melted against the couch. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Jason’s eyes flutter open, Roy is leaning over him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” he says, low and intimate, as he ducks down to trail kisses down Jason’s neck. “You okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Jason whispers. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy smiles down at him, then tugs at the hem of Jason’s sweater. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason nods, shifts to let Roy pull it off him, then reaches for Roy’s own shirt and tugs it up and off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The kissing heats up, then, gets deeper, makes Jason’s stomach flip. He makes a wordless little noise in the back of his throat and drags Roy as close to him as he can. God, no one’s ever touched him like this - like he’s something to be savored, to be <em>cherished. </em>He could get drunk on it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy laughs against his mouth and pulls back. “You’re so…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Jason asks, harsher than he intended. Roy’s just studying him, thoughtfully, like he can’t figure him out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know,” Roy admits, cupping his cheek, moving in. “Just you, I guess.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For some reason, that makes Jason’s stomach <em>swoop. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck,” he blurts, and kisses Roy <em>hard.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s fingers reach for his belt. Jason shivers again, moves his hips up to let Roy free him of his jeans, then his boxers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You too,” Jason says, breathless. “C’mon.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me look at you first, Jaybird,” Roy murmurs, and Jason snorts a laugh to cover how red his cheeks are. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Jaybird?</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy shrugs and grins. “Why not?” Then he <em>finally </em>takes his pants off, and now Jason just wants to stare at him, for as long as he’s allowed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s fingers graze his cheek, and Jason drags his gaze upwards. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You okay?” Roy asks, and Jason can’t believe he keeps asking, that he <em>cares. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” he breathes, and surges up to kiss Roy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s something else, too - the feeling of Roy pressed up against him, bare skin against his, the way his hands are roaming down his back, stroking through his hair, tangling lightly with his own hands. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s just so <em>different </em>to anything Jason’s had before, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that he doesn’t want it to stop. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Roy,” he gasps, and Roy hums from where he’s sucking a mark into his neck. Jason tips his head back, shuts his eyes, breathes hard and feels himself tremble. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Beautiful,” Roy murmurs, and Jason’s eyes fly open. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy’s hand closes over him, <em>finally, </em>and Jason lurches to touch him back - until they’re touching each other, gasping into each other’s mouths, and it’s so <em>good, </em>it’s just Roy’s <em>hand </em>but it’s better than anything Jason’s ever had and he—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason groans and comes apart under Roy, and when he feels Roy follow him over the edge, squeezes his eyes shut tight and just clings to him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We should move,” Roy mumbles against his shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmm,” Jason says, eyes shut. “Nah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy chuckles, then pushes himself to sit up, stretches, rolls his shoulders back. “When can I next see you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tomorrow morning,” Jason says, with a smirk. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy hesitates for long enough that Jason opens his eyes, stomach sinking. Roy’s already standing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jay—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me guess,” Jason says flatly. “You’re not staying the night.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to,” Roy says quickly. “I <em>do, </em>but I can’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” Jason snaps, and he’s so angry he thinks he might shake. Roy’d touched him like he wanted to keep him, like it <em>meant </em>something. But when it comes down to it, of course he doesn’t. Who’d want to keep someone like him?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have to get back,” Roy says desperately. “I can’t—I can’t say why, but I <em>do.</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“To your place, where the heating’s broken?” Jason challenges. “It’s fucking freezing out, Roy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I…” Roy sighs loudly. “Can’t you just trust me on this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason glares at him, then says, “I’ll make it easy for you, yeah? Get out.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jay—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Get out.</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roy silently collects his clothes from where they’re strewn across the floor. Jason refuses to look at him as he dresses. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason,” Roy says quietly, firmly, and then Jason reluctantly meets his eyes. “I want to stay. But there’s someone at my apartment I need to go back to.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason’s mouth drops open. Even worse. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Roy groans, when he sees Jason’s face. “Not a—I’m not seeing anyone. I just, I look after someone. Okay? I need to go back to them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason regards him warily. “Right.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I promise you, Jason.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason sighs and slumps back against the couch. “I’m. Sorry. I was being an asshole. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>do,</em>” Roy says, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “I do, Jaybird. Sometime, yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jason tugs his boxers and sweater back on, then stands. “You can see me whenever,” he manages to get out, even as his cheeks heat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then Roy closes a hand into the soft fabric of his sweater and pulls him close fast enough he stumbles. Roy catches him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good,” Roy whispers, and kisses him soundly. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*waves* thanks for reading everyone!! </p><p>comments + kudos are v much appreciated, and definitely let me know if there's anything you wanna see in future chapters!! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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